Scenes of The Awkward
by S-Chrome
Summary: Because at any given time, and usually when you least expect it, awkweird can and does happen. Whether you, Ron, or Kim like it or not.
1. Tranquility

Scenes of The Awkward: Tranquility

Chrome Notes: This little side-chapter takes place between Chapter 5 & 6.

* * *

It had been such a long day, and then again, a long night. Even when it was a long day and night, it was going to also be a long flight home. Worse yet, he didn't even have the window seat. He looked at his watch, knowing full well that it wasn't going to tell the exact time. After all, he was on an five-hour flight from New York City. He was looking forward to heading back home in Middleton, as the lights of Middleton weren't nearly as bright. Then again, Middleton was never going to be mistaken for a bustling metropolis, whatever that was. As he remembered touring through the city, the young man couldn't go two feet without awkwardly bumping into people. All that considered he was just glad to get back to some familiarity. 

Plus there was a comfortable bed, about eight hours of fatigue and extensive jet lag waiting for him as well. Ron Stoppable took a quick glance at his surroundings. It was mostly quiet aboard the first-class section of the commercial jet. It seemed as though everyone around him were sleeping, talking on cell phones, or tapping surreptitiously at their laptops. It certainly was quite the opposite of what it was hours ago, what with Dr. Drakken & Shego unearthing yet another cockamamie scheme for global conquest.

Another cockamamie scheme for global conquest - That was ably thwarted, of course.

By whom?

By the girl who was sleeping peacefully to the right of him; Kim Possible.

The young man stole a look at her sleeping form. He couldn't stop 'The Gush Factor' from reaching a high point. To call her an amazing girl was an absolute understatement. Not only was the redhead a part-time world defending crusader, but she was also a Straight-A student, and the captain of the cheerleading team. How could she do all of that and still maintain herself? How could she not totally bog down underneath the pressures of being a high school student and superhero?

And, how could he, her best friend, not be attracted to someone like her?

He tried to force himself into thinking that she was either unattractive or not his type. It didn't work.

As it turned out he came to the conclusion of: "Of course she's my type! I'm a freaking teenage boy! Every girl is my type!"

The sidekick had figured that it had begun about six months ago in the winter. He spearheaded the gradual change at around Christmas time, underneath that ill-placed sprig of Parsley... Perhaps that was time he stopped looking at his best friend as his best friend and more as a member of the opposite sex... But who the heck told him start thinking like that? He didn't ask for this kind of confusion. He wasn't asking for all these awkward happenings to occur! Heck, if it ever came out in the open about his nascent feelings toward Kim, how could he possibly attempt to explain it?

The blond sighed. The other end of the television taught him a couple of things about life...

* * *

_Number One was that life wasn't fair, even if you were rich. _

_Number Two was that things like this simply confused things to the nth degree._

_Number Three was the fact that best friends usually have less than ten percent of becoming more than that._

_Number Four was the fact that the chances of a guy like him winning the heart of a girl like Kim were about as good as the New York Knicks winning 35 games in 2007._

_And, of course, number five was to use lists and numbers to sort out troubled thoughts._

* * *

It was clear to the young man that this infatuation wasn't going to go away anytime soon. At first, he told himself that it was a phase that would last about three weeks... Like when he was crushing on the girl who smelled like pepperoni pizza. As the time progressed, the more nervous he became. This wasn't a phase... It was more than that. 

Heck, the only reason why he wasn't staring a hole through her right now is because he was going back and forth in his mind about what had been transpiring lately.

He smiled bitterly... He knew exactly what he needed to put a stop to this awkward attraction to his auburn-haired compadre; good old-fashion American rejection. He just needed to hear her say that he wasn't her type... Or maybe for her to say to him that they were just friends and nothing beyond that... That certainly worked in the teen sitcoms, and it was the kind of thing would definitely put things in perspective... Right?

But, then again... He had noticed that ever since he slightly altered his look that she had been looking at him a bit differently, though. But the cheerleading mascot had figured that maybe it was more of the garb than the person wearing it in itself. In fact, it was probably the same reason why he had suddenly became in such good graces with Bonnie... and Monique, for that matter. Sure those girls were attractive... But they just didn't have what Kim appeared to have.

His eyelids were growing heavy... When he got home, he had to remind himself to not think so much about matters like this. The long and short of it was that Kim was the best of the best friends that he had ever had, and if he didn't want to ruin that, then it would be best for him to keep his distance. Furthermore...

_"Mmm, Ron?" _

The blond wearily turned to his right side to see Kim stirring.

"Yeah?" He said to his awakening friend.

"Are we home yet?"

She would know better than him, as she stole the window seat out from under him.

"Naaah, we're about two or three hours away."

The girl murmured sleepily before returning to sleep. Ron continued to try and think of his strategy when something strange occurred that immediately broke him out of his concentration; Kim rested herself against him... in full pillow... or teddy-bear fashion. Upon the slight brush of contact, the blond froze, not wanting to move a muscle. His breathing became shallow and his heartbeat increased... He didn't want to wake her... She looked so peaceful. As he shifted his eyes back and forth between the sleeping girl and toward the front of the cabin, a flight attendant walked by their isle.

"That's so sweet," she said. "Are you her boyfriend?"

The blond felt the heat literally radiate his cheeks... "Well... Not really."

The female attendant shook her head. "Either way, she's a very lucky girl." With that, she continued down the isle.

Was he was confused? Yes. Was he officially crushing on his best friend? Just about. All of those questions were answered... But a more interesting question loomed.

With his best friend sleeping serenely on his shoulder, what if he had to go to the bathroom?

Yep... it was going to be a long two or three hours.

* * *

End of Part 1/4 

Welcome to 'Scenes of The Awkward'... Which is... The small (and probably fluffy) vignettes between chapters.

Questions? Comments? Think the Tigers can sweep the A's? Feel that Joe Torre ought to be fired? What would you give for Alex Rodriguez on your ballclub? Review!

S-Chrome


	2. Still, The Scramble

Scenes of The Awkward: Still, The Scramble

* * *

_"Ron, why are you running from me? I thought you liked me!" _

Ron was doing just that. Some would call it sprinting, others would say escaping, but whatever way it could possibly be described, Ron was running, and he was running hard. While he didn't do it often, it can certainly put to bed the old notion that the blond was unathletic.

_"Ronnnnie, I could chase you forever..." _The voice teased seductively. He knew that the voice that was gaining on him was right. It wouldn't be long until he was caught. When the young man was chased by bullies and the like in the past, he would concede defeat, stop running, and allow the individuals to do whatever they were going to do. He knew, a couple of bumps, bruises and gauze later, he would be all right. But this...

_"I can feel you getting tired, Ron..."_

Second Wind... Where in heavens was his _second wind?_

Hopefully, it would be in the immediate area, because the figure who was chasing after him wasn't going to give it up. He never feared being cornered by a bully... But if he was to be cornered by this person... Well, fearing the unknown wasn't that commonplace.

Apparently, fear was good for an adrenaline boost. With an extra burst of speed and the faint hope of escape flickering, Ron picked up the pace of his tired legs and got to third gear.

Escape loomed in the form of the Middleton Mall. Oh... If there was any time he was glad to ever be in that mall...

The first thing he figured was to go someplace... anyplace where he couldn't be followed. His first hiding spot: The kiddie toy store. Fonder memories than this came floating back to him. The good days, when there were no such things as crushes, puberty... or hormones, for that matter. How Ron would love to go back to when he was six. Anything, just anything to get out of what he got himself into.

Tempering his all-out sprint into a jog, the blond looked over his shoulder to see if he was being trailed. He let out a sigh of relief as he got the idea that he wasn't being followed. He finally came to a full stop. Twelve minutes of consecutive running, and maybe... Just maybe he was home free. The boy took a look at the sights of the toystore. Sure, people were looking at him like he was the latest heist suspect, but he didn't care, he finally escaped from the clutches of...

_"Miss me, Ron?"_

Oh... No. Behind him!

Before a hand was placed on him, the sidekick took off once again. He knew it couldn't be that easy. For once, he knew what it felt like to be a Doctor Drakken, or a Shego, or any of the baddies that his best friend, Kim Possible did battle with. Only difference was the fact that if they got caught, they would face significant jailtime, if he got caught... Well...

The blond was looking for somewhere... anywhere he could make his escape. Ahead of him, about thirty feet away from his advance, stood two pathways; one to the left, and the other to the right. Going with his gut, he chose going toward the left. He quickly regretted it. He couldn't stop himself fast enough as he almost literally ran into the arms of his pursuer.

The captor didn't bother holding the young man for that long, as it was known he would keep running. Instead, the pursuer decided to take more of a psychological approach.

_"You can run, but you can't hiiiide..."_ the stalker whispered elicitly.

While the age-old phrase correctly depicted the situation that the he was in, Ron wasn't going to let a little thing called 'fact' disrupt him from trying to escape. Regardless of truth, he took off once again, full-tilt in the opposite direction. He ran past the food court, and saw one chance at hiding; The restroom. Ignoring the fact that his temples that were doing a drumline on his head, he sucked up whatever energy he had left and took off into the direction in the men's room. Once inside, he nearly collapsed from the fatigue that comes with running full-speed for twenty minutes.

As his thoughts on how to escape wandered about, he wondered how marathon runners managed to do this...

He figured that for the time being, he would lay low in here... and if any of the male mall patrons looked at him strange as they went in-and-out, he would simply ignore them.

Speaking of strange... There was a strange sound coming from above him. He feared the worst, his stalker was going to come in through the air vent!

Whoever taught his follower the ropes of being so painfully resourceful...

With a dash, the boy dashed out of the bathroom. He searched on the fly for venues where he could use as a hiding place. _'Dairy Prince... No. Duncan's Doughnuts? No! Nasty Burger? So definitely not. _

Three different options. Three No's. And that was just the food court. Continuing his run, he took a look over his shoulder... Wait... No one was chasing him. Maybe the chase was given up.

Maybe.

Out of relief... and just a _little _bit of exhaustion, the sidekick stopped running. That did it... He wasn't going to run anymore. His heart was pounding mercilessly and his legs felt like jelly. Then again, he wasn't going to make himself available to his pursuer... There was one more surefire place he knew where his tracker wouldn't be able to find him. With a large inhalation of O² in preparation, he took off once again.

* * *

Sure, being a part of the work force was nice, what with the money and all. But days like these, sometimes it was downright dull. 

Conversely, Monique knew of all the perks of being a salesgirl at Club Banana beforehand. The girl knew of the up's-and-down's. However, when she saw a familiar blond run into the clothing store... She shook her head in exasperation.

This was the fourth time this month that she saw the blond running into this establishment, looking for a place to hide. Thus, it didn't surprise when the blond rushed over to her and grabbed her by the shoulders.

"Please, Monique... You gotta help me find a place to hide, she's after me again..." He urged breathlessly.

"Nicole, give me a minute," she said to the other clerk. Rolling her eyes, she dragged the hapless boy to the back of the store. The African-American girl had grown seriously weary of this 'Hide Me' business with Ron. After three other incidents where she decided to hide the hapless blond this month, now was time to give the young man the honest truth about what was going on and why he was being chased around so often.

"You cannot be serious, Ron," she said.

"Note: Serious Face," the blond replied, making what could be described as a serious face. "I don't know what's wrong with her..."

"You wouldn't happen to think that she's chasing you around because she _likes _you, do you?" The clerk asked sarcastically.

The blond made a horrified face. "What? No...! Kim has never liked me. We're friends... I just don't see..."

"But _you _like her, don't you?" She asked, ignoring the boy's defense.

"Well... _Yeah_," he replied, a fierce blush presenting itself on his cheeks. "But the other way around? No way... Not in a million years... There's got to be something wrong with her."

"I know what's wrong with her."

"Really? You do?"

"Yeah," Monique began. "Somehow, you've managed make your way into her heart. And for whatever reason, you don't believe someone like yourself would attract someone like her... I mean, come on, Ron... Why not you?"

"Why not me?" He asked dubiously, disbelieving the notion. "Let's start with..."

"Look... You're always been by her side, come hell or high water. You two have been friends since the early 90's, when the Pittsburgh Pirates weren't a minor league baseball team..."

"Wow..." Ron muttered in awe. It had been a while since the Pirates didn't su...

"...I mean, if I had a BFF like Kim had you, I'd be all over him too," she explained.

"What if your best friend forever was a girl, then?"

"OK... Not so much... But you get the idea,"

"I don't know, Monique... Can't you just hide me in one of the dressing rooms for the time being?" He begged.

With a frustrated growl, the clerk led Ron to the small row of dressing rooms. Ron sighed in relief as he saw the disgusted look in the girl's brown eyes as she led the way.

"Here, you go cower in there. But remember, this is the last time I'm helping you. Next time, your going to have to help yourself," she said with the sternness of an older sister. The blond hastily locked the door as his heartbeat slowed down to a normal rate in the first time in hours. As the blond collected his breath, he had a small feeling that would be safe here... Kim would never suspect him to check into Club Banana under any circumstance.

Or at least, that's what the tired young man had thought.

_Surprise, Surprise... _

Monique's eyes lit up as she saw her friend, Kim walk into the fashion store.

"Hey, Monique," Kim greeted jovially.

"Hey, girl," Monique replied. "What can I do for you. There's a clearance sale on..."

"I'm not exactly here to shop, Mon. I thought I saw Ron run into here. You haven't seem him around, have you?"

The dark-skinned girl's eyes flashed like... scary, scary lightning that seems like it's two feet away from your house with the thunderclap that comes immediately afterward and ultimately freaks you the hell out...

Either way, it presented a quandary for the clerk. Where would her loyalties lie? In the hands of a close friend, Ron, or in one of her best friends in Kim?

_What do you think?_

"As a matter of fact..." Monique began.

* * *

Ron wondered how long it would take for him to make his way out of the mall and into more safer, Kim-less grounds. Either way, he knew that he couldn't hide forever, and he wasn't planning to. Whenever the courage decided to present itself within him, he would talk to Kim about... 

"Hey, Ron? You in there?"

The sound of Monique and footsteps jarred him out of his thoughts.

"Uh... Yeah... What's up?"

"I've got someone who can help you with your being chased problem."

"Who?"

"Open the door and you'll see."

Ron had been fooled by that phrase before. He had a right to be skeptical in her reasoning.

"How do I know you're not lying?"

"Ron, if you don't open the door, I'll have you taken away by security."

Ron could almost feel the smirk on Monique's face as he was held to no other choice than to open the door. Hesitantly, he opened the door and saw the form of the dark-skinned girl.

"So," Ron began. "Where's this mystery help at?"

"Oh... They should be right about... _here." _

At that very word, the red-haired menace jumped from behind the rack of designer shirts and tackled the unsuspecting blond. When Ron gained his bearings, he was petrified to see that his pursuer was on top of him. Darn that Monique! She tricked him into coming out of his only sanctuary, and now he was powerless to stop Kim.

How powerless, you ask?

* * *

**powerless **(_**pou**-er-lis) adj._

_1. Lacking power to act; helpless._

2. Unable to produce an effect.

3. The Democratic Party of the United States

_4. Kenny Rogers without pine tar._

_5. The Dallas Cowboys.

* * *

_

He was at the redhead's mercy. Wait... at her mercy?

"Ron, why have you been running from me?" She asked.

The look in her emerald green eyes made the boy feel guilty. The girl on top of him had been his best friend for over a decade, and out of the clear blue, he was running away from her as if she had a disease or something. His inner guilt made him want to explain himself.

"Uhh... Remember when you started getting really... close to me that night?" He asked.

"That's the night I said I was crushing on you," Kim said.

"Uh... Yeah... that night," Ron muttered.

"Oh," Kim said, getting the point exactly. "You could've just--"

"No-No-No! I do... it's just that I'm nervous about some things..." He admitted.

Upon his explanation, the girl's expression brightened, followed by one of concern.

"Nervous about what?"

"Uh... Well, since we both kinda like each other... What happens if it doesn't work out, K.P.? I mean, I don't want what we have now to get down the--"

"It won't come to that, Ron... I promise," the auburn-haired girl said solemnly.

"How can you be so sure?" The blond asked, panicked.

The girl placed a finger on his lips to quell his queries.

"Don't be afraid, Ron..." She simply replied as she drew closer to the blond beneath her. The warmth of the girl managed to calm the blond down and let the inevitable come to him. His lips tingled and he felt the lips of his best friend touch his for the first time. The girl's lips were so soft. Forget about the awkward... he could definitely get used to this. As their embrace continued, the blond wrapped his arms around the girl possessively.

The kiss only intensified. From a distance, the peacemaker of sorts, Monique watched everything that transpired. She knew this would be good for the boy... and apparently things were going to work out after all.

Now... To get them out of the store, however... Was a new challenge unto itself.

* * *

_Beep, Beep, Beep... _

"Wha-What? Was that a dream?"

* * *

End of Part 2 

Yes, 'nother one of those Dream Sequence chapters for ya. Now, using your powers deduction, which one of our heroes actually dreamt that? I'll give you a hint, it's not Rufus...

...or is it?

Questions? Comments? Fearful that the Democratic Party might take over the Senate come Tuesday? Review. And remember, ask a silly question, get a silly answer. Ask an intelligent question... Still get a silly answer.

S-Chrome (Registered Democrat, btw... :-D)


	3. Adjustments

Scenes of The Awkward: Last-Second Adjustments

* * *

Sure things. 

What were sure things?

Sure things were those things that weren't difficult to say the least. Things that just couldn't fail, no matter how hard the opposition atempted tried to stop you. A sure thing was going to she store to pick up groceries. A sure thing was Mariano Rivera in the ninth inning... well, except in that Game 7 of some unimportant series... A sure thing is the Democrats whining about everything and doing very little about it. A sure thing was the Chicago Cubs falling short of winning a world series championship. A sure thing is the Republicans complaining about Clinton... STILL!

**(How's that for political equilibrium?)**

But!

What happneed when a sure thing wasn't a... sure thing?

Well, there were two kinds of examples of the destruction of a sure thing and the aftermath of it...

_"Wait, the Bears are what we thought they were... W-what we thought they were. We played them in preseason. I mean, who the hell takes the third game of the preseason like it's bull----? Bull----! "_

Who **does** do that anyway?

_"We played them in the third game, everybody played fpr three quarters. The Bears are who we thought they were! And that's why we took the damn field! Now... if you wanna crown 'em, then cown their a--!"_

Yes, we should _totally_ crown their non-Super Bowl winning, five turnover...

Then agaiun, there was another example of sure things gone wrong... Like, say, one red-haired girl of about sixteen years of age that was stalking about the streets of Middleton. By her half-walk, half-running pace, it could be deducted that she wasn't in the mood to chat or sign autographs. The sun was about ready to set and go down, and to Kim Possible, something else was about to go down as well.

Like, say, the chances of her and Ron. And what was she doing about this?

Elementary! She was going to confront the one who gave her the worst advice in the history of advice giving...

..why would she do anything else?

* * *

Where was the glamour in working at Club Banana? If it was there, then where the heck did it go? Where was the pinache? Where was the flair? Was Monique slowly but surely becoming just another working stiff out in the cruel world of sales? Work, work, 'The customer is always right', more work, and heavy lifting til she got a hernia. What the heck happened to the excitement? 

"There you go, Monique. Your total is $521.37."

Ah... There was the excitement! There was the pinache! It was amazing what a little green did for someone who was formerly so blue.

_And for that one moment. That one fleeting moment, all the struggle, all the heavy lifting... everyhing... all seemed to be worth it. That one moment that happens every two weeks on an early Friday eveing. _

Payday, baby!

The throng of the mall's employees rushed out of the check cashing joint, greenbacks firmly in their hands, spending it foolishly in the minds and celebratory songs in their hearts. Just happy that they made it through another two weeks without physically, mentally, or psychologically breaking down into pieces. For all that accomplishment, this **did** call for a celebratory song.

Celebratory songs... much like...

_"All this energy calling me  
Back where it comes from  
It's such a crude atitude  
It's back where it belongs!"_

_"All the little chicks with the crimson lips, go  
Middleton rocks! Middleon rocks!  
Living in sin with a safety pin go..." _

"Monique!"

The girl whirled around to see the form of Kim Possible before her. Wait a minute... it had to be 8 o'clock by now. Wasn't she supposed to be on her dream date with..?

_Uh-Oh. The premonitions!_

"Uh, hey, Kim," she greeted. She took a look at the redhead's facial features. She looked distressed for sure. The auburn-haired girl didn't respnd, which meant that Monique had to read what was up. She quickly got it, too.

"Um, Kim... is there something wrong? You look... jealous."

_Boy, did she know her or what? It' must've been a gift. So remeember, gentlemen and ladies... if you can read jealousy on somone's face, you are truly one of the extraordinary ones._

"Yes, that's right, Monique... I do look jealous," Kim replied. "And do you know why?"

Monique shrugged, drawing an absolute blank. She wasn't exactly in love with the teen adventurer's tone at the moment.

"It's because tonight Ron is out with that..." She struggled to find the words to describe her usurper of a cheerleading partner. "...Tara."

Monique couldn't be more surprised. Looks like the disturbance in the force that she felt checked out.

"And you know who's fault this is?" Kim continued.

"Oh no... I **know** you're not pinning this one me, girl," Monique replied, crossing her arms defiantly.

"Well, it certainly isn't _my _fault," the teen adventurer shot back.

"Oh, really?" Monique asked. From what she was hearing, it was about high time that Kim get hit with some truth. Because she was in, like... the fifteenth stage of denial

"From what you told me, it was you that started this whole thing last week. Did you ever get it in your head that you might have... I don't know, scared him away?"

The redhead opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

"I _so _did not scare him away," she defended. "There's no way. Ron and I have been friends forever--"

"--Friends forever, and clear out of the blue, you try to plant one on his lips," the ebony-skinned girl cut in. "That would certainly confuse me. And Ron is a boy, as much as you hate to admit it... so think what that would do to him!"

The flame-haired heroine shook her head and closed her eyes, regretting that little piece of information that she imparted that afternoon. Monique, deciding to let the natural truth set in, said no more than what needed to be said.

"Yeah, but you still gave me advice that didn't work," Kim countered petulantly.

The fashion stork clerk shook her head. She quickly forgot who was the more mature one of the Possible-Stoppable duo. In the fine practice that the customer was always right, Monique decided to acquiesce to what was her responsibility, and that only.

"Fine, maybe I gave you some bad advice. But you can't dwell on this," the store clerk said. "If you're serious about you and Ron, then you need to focus on how your going to get him back in your corner."

"Yeah, I will, but for now... come on," Kim urged, grabbing for her friend's arm.

"What? Where are you dragging me off to?" Monique protested.

"You'll see," the redhead replied vaguely.

Monique allowed herself t be dragged across town. When she saw that she was in familiar territory, she quickly broke off from Kim's grasp.

"Kim," Monique stopped to look around. "Isn't this Ron's block?"

"Duh," Kim simply replied. "Now stay quiet."

"But, wh--"

The girl was shushed by Kim. She was outraged to be shushed. She was almost never shushed in her entire life. That was totally an insult.

* * *

(7:57:29) 

Just a couple minutes. Well, actually two minutes and thirty-one seconds before absolute liftoff. Well, whatever that was. For the past ten minutes, when Kim went out the door, Ron had been doing a lot of nothing. Unfortunately for the blond, all this idle time before zero hour got him to start thinking about his best friend.

Seriously, what if she wasn't alright with this, despite her insistance that she was? Then, maybe then, she did think there was something between herself and him... and after this, she would probably be totally ticked off at him... and if...

'Stop thinking! Stop thinking!' His subconscious yelled to him. He was one minute and fifty-seven second from his first date.

(7:58:03)

'Start counting the seconds before Tara rings that doorbell,' Ron's head instructed him.

"65... 64... 63... 62.. 61... 60," he counted slowly.

'If she really wasn't fine with Tara & I, then why would she not tell me about it?'

"53...52... 51... 50... 49.."

'If she wasn't being honest with me, then how am I supposed to know?'

"44... 43... 42... 41... 40..."

'Did Kim just expect me to know how she felt just by looking at her? And if so, why the heck is she giving me that much credit?'

"35... 34... 33.. 32... 31.."

'If Kim isn't OK with this, then does she really think there's something between us... or is it something else?'

"24... 23.. 21... 20... 19..."

'When is a man just a man?'

"13... 12... 11... 10... 9..."

'Why were the commercials during Super Bowl XLI so darn lame?'

"5... 4... 3... 2... 1.."

It's was go time.

Strange. No doorbell being rang_. As if people were supposed to just show up on the doorstep at the exact time... _

There were so many questions that were to this point unanswered. All he knew was at the end of the night, he was going to have an Excedrin headache. That was for sure. Not just for sure, it was fa' shizzle, mah nizz..."

_"Ding-Dong."_

"Oh, shizzle!" Ron yelled. That was the door-bizzle to his hizzle. That must Tar-izzle, ready for their dizzle."

Straightening his cl-izzle... er, clothing to the best of his abilit-izzle, Ron strolled casually to the door and opened it.

"Heeeeyy..." Ron's speech slowed down to a crawl as he saw the form of Tara before him.

_

* * *

How Tara looked, according to Dr. Vainglorious._

**_"Like, Oh my Gizzz-od. Standing there at the doorstep, she was, without a doubt, the hottest and the cutest thing ever at the moment."_**

Thanks, Doctor

* * *

The look of the blonde girl in front of him almost made him forget about that Kim person. The girl's ice blue eyes twinkled mischievously. Despite the fact Ron tried to avert his long gaze, she so caught him... and that was kind of a good thing. 

"Hiii, Ron," she said, throwing her Valley girl-esque voice into something more... Jessica Rabbit-like.

Sure, it wasn't exactly Jessica-like, but it was darn sure enough for Ron to trip over his words.

The blond boy regained his bearings and composure. "Eh... Hi, Tara," he greeted, his voice breaking clearly.

Tara giggled at his sudden loss of calm. She didn't know that she could make such a handsome guy like Ron nearly fall apart like he did.

"Uh..." Ron began... he thought he had this, but apparently he didn't. "...no use standing around here." He held out his arm. "Shall we?"

"Yes, we shall," Tara replied, holding back a giggle. He was just so darn cute...

* * *

"I'm not standing out here all night just because you said--" 

"Quiet, Monique!" Kim commanded as she spotted something from her night-vision goggles. "There they are."

"Who?"

Fed up with the questioning, the teen superheroine almost handed the binoculars to Monique, but decided against it at the last second. As for Monique, she was still trying to find out what the heck was going on when...

"Let's move," her auburn-haired friend said.

"Wait a minute," Monique halted ..". Isn't that Ron and Tara down the block? And..."

Then it hit her.

"Oh... _hell _no," the girl swore. "Kim, please do not tell me that you're thinking of spying on Ron."

"Of course not," Kim replied, turning toward her. "People in the industry never call it spying. In the circles, we call it 'Keeping Surveillance'."

The ebony-skinned girl stared at her friend in total disbelief. "Kim, how deep in jeal are you?"

The redhead's expression turned back to what it was. "Jeal? What the heck is jeal?"

"It means being jealous, Kim," Monique replied as it was common knowledge.

"I'm not jealous, Mo. Just concerned. Now, come on..."

"No way I'm going to be a part of this train wreck," Monique stated, turning full-scale in the other direction before she felt a tug from behind.

"Remember how you said you were partly responsible for this?" Kim asked sweetly.

"Well, yeah, but, come on, K, this isn't you, and..."

"Well, here's your chance to pay me... no, us, back," Kim replied, pulling her friend back on the path alongside her.

She was going to hold this over her head? Unbelievable.

"Kim, you cannot be serious."

The redhead's exoression nearly turned dangerous. "Note: Serious face."

* * *

End of Part 3

Now you readers allllll know what to expect in Chapter 11. Woop!

Questions? Comments? Feel that the Super Bowl commercials were seriously subpar? Well, you're not the only one. Review! 


	4. Detention Confidential

Scenes of The Awkward: Detention Confidential

* * *

Detention; Not the WB-inspired, Recess rip-off Detention, but _real_ detention, complete with the no-goodniks, repeat derelicts, the bad, bad girls, and probably the stoners. 

Detention was the one-stop shop for the full-time slackers, the random troublemaker, and those who saw one too may rap music videos in their lifetime. In short, detention was a guidance counselor's paradise. Only this time, on the first day of classes, they were only two detainees picked up for their wrongdoing. Rarely would D-Hall ever go without it's vast repertoire of reprobates, drama queens, and various strays, but since this day was the first day, Kim Possible and Ron Stoppable were the only ones in the entire room... and since the last bell of class rang minutes before, probably the last students in the entire building. Ron sat diagonally from Kim as the much-imposing form of Mr. Barkin, the dean and substitute teacher du jour, paced back and forth in front of the classroom, not even bothering to sit at his desk.

A normal teacher... or any other professional that wasn't a substitute teacher du jour would just sit at his or her desk and wait out the remaining forty-five minutes. But, no, Barkin continued to pace to and fro, at times staring gaping holes through one of his two students.

Could anyone guess which one that was?

"Honestly, Stoppable…" the forty-something man admonished. "…On the first day?" He repeated from a few minutes back when he led them away.

Well, guess that answers the question.

There wasn't any defense to his offense. In guilt, Ron turned his head slightly away from Barkin. Perhaps if the next time he was going to spill his guts to Kim, maybe he could do it outside of school...

"And, still, you drag Possible down with you..." Mr. Barkin continued with an air of disappointment present in his cadence.

Both of the prisoners... err, students, stared in surprise at the dean's affirmation of their relationship. The teens had a pretty good idea to defend against what he said. Then again, both of them didn't want to make a potentially bad situation worse. The thought of more detention in a heat wave this intense was about as disturbing to the mind as the thought of another Jurassic Park movie.

So, as to avoid heftier fines and punishments, they remained silent as Barkin continued to criticize.

"For years, I've seen this girl pull your fat out of the fire, and for years, I've seen you pull her into it," the war veteran chided as he came face-to-face with Ron. "If this were Jai Alai, Stoppable, you would've been fragged ten times over."

Once the blond saw the grave expression on Barkin's face, Ron figured that _fragged must've been a bad thing, _

Though the constant sub-teacher was out of his personal space, he was still glaring daggers in his general direction whilst pacing across the hardwood.

That's right... Ron gets the blame for everything! The boy thought contemptuously. If it was any other teacher on detention duty, he wouldn't have the verbal smack down laid on him, but nooo… Barkin had to go and pick up some overtime. Why did he need the blasted money anyway? Didn't he get stocks and bonds from the war or something?

More importantly, didn't Mr. Barkin know that all this censuring was bad for his self-confidence?

Young Ronald fanned himself with a notebook as he stared pleadingly above at the clock. Boy, this was shaping up to be the longest… and hottest detention stint in the history. The seconds passed by like minutes, and the minutes passed by like a Hillary Clinton speech. At this point, even Barkin must've grown tired of pacing the floors like a madman as he finally sat at his desk with a newspaper obscuring most of his face. The clock was about at 3:28, which meant only **seventeen **minutes until the longer than long day ended.

Well, the day wasn't too bad. At least one thing went well, Ron thought as he quickly stole a glance in Kim's direction. Luckily, she didn't catch him, or so he hoped. He wondered what she was thinking… well, other the thought of throttling him for getting her in this detention fix.

* * *

Fixed; was everything fixed? 

Kim Possible was ever the optimist, especially when it came to her best friend, Ron. But, was everything fixed between the two? It was a question she had asked herself from their reconciliation the other day. Now that everything was for the most part, was out in the open, what was going to happen? Heck, Ron was the first one to ask the question and she didn't have the answer then and didn't have any now either.

The girl idly pounded the eraser end of a pencil against a graffiti-laced desk as minutes that could've been spent in her air-condition bedroom were replaced by sticking... literally, to a chair in school.

Amidst the questions for what was ahead for herself and Ron, one thing she did have an answer for was the fact that Barkin assessment of her and Ron about was wrong as a native New Yorker rooting for the Atlanta Braves. Yeah, he pulled her into a lot of tough spots, but he was also the one that kept her out of those same tight spots. Sure, he was a bit dense at times and rather clumsy most of the time, but he was the one to keep her in focus and that redhead of hers planted on the ground.

Heck, she could get into the fire all by herself just fine. A certain Friday night could reinforce that point.

…and guess who wasn't there to keep her out of said fire?

Kim knew that the entire ordeal that night was a reminder of sorts. It reminded her that she needed Ron as much as he needed her. For no other reason than her going into uncontrollable spells of jealousy and/or depression if he wasn't by her side for a couple of days.

She bet dollars-to-White Sox losses that Ron would've stopped her from making such a grave error that night.

The one thing she could take solace in was the fact that she had her BFF back. All the bad things about Ron she could take... besides, in a sense, Ron was the only one that kept her from becoming someone like… Bonnie.

She shuddered violently at the thought.

The girl wanted to envision a Ron-less existence and for the life of her, she couldn't wrap her mind around it. It wasn't that she couldn't think of it, but it was because she didn't want to. Heck, she came close enough for it to be a reality. As she reminisced about the week that was, it was almost as if a day with Ron was like a day without sunshine.

Hold on, a day without sunshine? Whoa, now she **knew** that there were fireworks in the air. She never thought of Ron like that before and now, before a dime could drop, that thought just came out of deep right center field?

Maybe a coincidence? Eh, probably not.

Before she could check in on her introspection, she caught Ron out of the corner, the very corner, the hot corner, if you will, of her eye. He turned away before their eyes made contact with one another. The teen heroine let a little grin grace her lips thinking of her best friend hastily turning away from her.

Her little ray of sunshine was checking her out. How wonderfully cute it was, but also, so wonderfully weird; but, mostly wonderfully cute.

* * *

3:35; there were only ten minutes. Nothing wrong could occur in ten minutes, well except for the fame of Sean Kingston, and that was beyond wrong. 

When one was in detention, one had to allow oneself to let their mind go elsewhere when there was nothing of relevance to think about. As for Ron, he was right in the middle of it. As long as it could make him come closer to the warden... er, substitute teacher du jour, finally saying to him that he was free to go, he was willing to ponder and ruminate on just about anything.

All right, there were simply ten minutes until detention ended and about fifteen until he had to repeat the same process of getting up and them, and the process went over and over and over. There had to be something out there to break the monotony of the daily grind of it all.

It was elementary that these were one of the times in which Ron wished that he was home schooled.

Then again, had he been home schooled from the beginning, there wouldn't be a red-haired beauty that he had conflicting sentiments toward.

Beauty? Odd, Kim was never synonymous with the term beauty in his eyes. Although, before he turned fifteen, she was always kind of cute... in the friendliest way possible.

Only in the friendliest way, Ron thought. Hah, that, and the New York Giants just have a below average defense.

**(Why, God? Why?!)**

For no other reason than to move around, he turned around in the girl's direction... and as fast as he turned toward her, he turned away.

Oh, not good. He turned around to see that face he was so used to seeing, staring right back at him. Worse yet, before he darted his head back, it appeared that she had a slight smirk on her face. Why a smirk? Geez, did she catch the first time he looked in her general direction?

He wasn't staring at her! He was staring is her general direction, darn it! General direction!

Aw, screw it. He was looking at her. Heck, what was the penalty for looking at your very attractive best friend anyway?

He didn't know it at the time, but his question was about to be answered.

* * *

Kim dragged her desk closer to Ron's. The legs of the chair underneath her made a slight creaking sound as she moved closer, but it wasn't loud enough to stir the attention of Mr. Barkin. The auburn-haired girl's intention was to let her shy companion know that she noticed him noticing her. 

Did you get all of that?

Kim felt a bit of hesitation as she came within inches of Ron's desk. Fortunately, for her (and the rest of the shippers out there), she shed her trepidation faster than the New York Mets can shed themselves from playoff contention. With the cheekiest of cheeky grins, she took his elbow and placed it on her desk. She then grasped the open palm of his hand and squeezed it as the young man turned around.

"Kim, wha?" Ron sputtered. He wanted to ask waht was going on, that is, until he saw the expression on the girl's face. At that exact point, he didn't really want to ask anything, let alone, say anything.

Their hands intertwined tightly. Their eyes found one another's. It was one of those 'shared moments' that _Holden_ from _Chasing Amy_ would describe. Two people, seemingly searching into each other's souls, silently, yet shyly yearning for one another for over several stretches of time, waiting patiently, or maybe impatiently, for a moment like this...

...and then the bell rang.

"OK, lovebirds. Detention is over. Move out!" Barkin commanded in that drill sergeant tone of his.

That shared moment between Kim and Ron wasn't just broken, but it was bludgeoned, tortured with a hot poker, cut to pieces, pistol-whipped, and massacred... Sonny Corleone at the tollbooth style... at the same time.

Both students looked away from one another and looked around the classroom as if they had woken from a lucid dream. Kim, then Ron, rose from their respective desks, ready to finally put an end to this first day.

"Stoppable, you stay." Barkin barked.

The blond-haired sidekick painfully cringed as he stopped... with one foot out of the room, no less.

He apologetically turned to his girl that happened to be a friend. "K.P., I..."

"No big, Ron, I'll wait outside for you," she insisted.

"You will? It's almost like..."

He stopped talking as she gave an assuring, yet... 'stop freaking talking' look. Kim turned toward the hallway, but turned back for a moment, as if she forgot to do something.

Once Ron figured that it was time to face up to his obviously gregarious punishment, he turned toward Barkin, unaware that Kim was right behind him. Unaware that the girl's puckering lips were making a beeline for his cheek... _and unaware of the fact that Chris Crocker is a pox upon humanity_…

...until it hit him.

And, boy! Did it hit him! In fact, it him harder than a Joba Chamberlain pitch aimed for the rat's nest that was Kevin Youkilis' beard.

**(Yep, I had to get in a shot before the playoffs began.) **

Kim was long gone before he realized what hit him. Much like that fateful Friday night in which Bonnie did the same thing, Ron held a hand to his rapidly crimsoned cheek. Unlike that night, the boy felt a wide range of emotions after the fact… and not just shock, surprise and/or disgust and/or elation. What made Kim want to do something like…

"Stoppable!" Mr. Barkin bellowed. "Front and center!"

Oh, yeah… in the present.

He trudged over to Barkin's desk. The tall and rather foreboding man rose from his chair and faced his young student. The difference in height was enough to threaten young Ronald, and it probably did.

Ron stood there, waiting for whatever extra punishment the uber-substitute teacher was going to hand out to him. Instead of handing him some chalkboard erasers to clap at, the man clamped a hand down on his shoulder.

"You know, Stoppable, I've stopped trying to figure out you kids and your puppy love, but let me tell you a couple of things," Barkin explained.

Ok, this was weird. Barkin giving advice?

"Possible is a special girl and for reasons I'm not aware of, she has more faith in you than Celtic fans have faith in Kevin Garnett…"

What?

"And they know that he's not going to deliver an NBA championship to Boston, but still…"

"Uh, Mr. B?

"Oh," the interchangeable instructor muttered, obviously lost in his train of thought. "What I meant to say is that Possible has faith in you, and some of it is unwarranted…" He shook his head. "But she still does, so please, please, **please **don't let her down," he urged.

'Sound advice, despite coming from an unlikely source,' Ron mused.

"Eh, I won't," Ron insisted timidly.

"Good. Ms. Possible could use a young… upstanding soldier like you," he said, reassuringly patting the young man on his shoulder. "Not like that Mankey pipsqueak."

Ron soundly laughed at Barkin's designation of Josh. His chuckling stopped when the dean glared holes at him.

"Bah, why am I telling you this? Out, Stoppable… OUT!" He badgered, ushering the young man out of the classroom.

* * *

For once in a long while, Ron Stoppable left Middleton High with a lot on his mind. Before, he could sort them out, of course, a friendly face with bright reddish-orange hair came to his side to walk with him. 

"So, what's the sitch?" She asked him, her sunny disposition disappearing.

"Oh, nothing major." He replied, much to her relief. "But, can I ask you something?"

"Sure." Kim answered.

"Uh... I was listening to Barkin was saying... and... I was thinking... seriously, do you think I drag you down?"

The answer that Ron was expecting didn't come at all as the red-haired girl laughed at his question.

"Ah, Ron... you soooo drag me down!" She replied.

* * *

_Critical Error 1: The Awful Truth_

_Treatment: Next time, don't ask the damn question!_

* * *

After his question was answered, there was about a eighteen-inch gap between Stoppable's jaw and the rest of his face. Maybe nineteen if you counter in the teeth-to-gum ratios. 

"Kidding, Ron. Kidding," she then said.

"Yeah... kidding..." he replied with a nervous chuckle. "You really got me good," he said unconvincingly.

Kim felt that Ron wasn't exactly getting the gist of what she was saying. So she took her friend by the shoulder and stopped him.

"If anything, Ron, I drag you around more than you drag me down. You never seem to complain about it and neither do I. We're friends... everyone expects to be dragged down or around sometimes, wouldn't you say?"

Well, Ron was convinced with that reasoning. "Well, yeah... I guess," his youthful smile came out for about the second time in the afternoon. They continued to walk with Kim walking slightly ahead of him. She then turned back toward him

"Besides, Ron. I'd let you drag me anywhere," she said with a wink before turning toward the sidewalk ahead of her.

Ron stopped in his tracks.

Whoa. Whoa. Wait a minute, whoa! What the heck was that supposed to mean?

Was that what adults call 'innuendo?'

Was that something that meant to be... flirtatious? Or was it something she meant in a serious manner?

And, why was Kim's hips swiveling like they were?

Ron Stoppable was momentarily at a loss, but heck... there was time to figure these things out.

"Hey, K.P. Wait up!" He exclaimed, chasing after her.

* * *

End of Part 4 

Questions? Concerns? Tardy notices? Will the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim finally stop laying down for the Boston Red Sox? Will the New York Giants defense show up again? Will S-Chrome ever stop hating sports teams from Boston?

Ha! We all know the answer to that.

Review!

S-C.


End file.
